


Now, I Am Become...

by knightofsuperior



Category: Kaze no Tani no Naushika | Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ghibli Academia, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Nausicaa AU, Shigaraki Gets Some Character Development, Studio Ghibli, Studio Ghibli References, studio ghibli au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:19:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19444138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofsuperior/pseuds/knightofsuperior
Summary: When Shigaraki Tomura awakes from a centuries-long hell into a brand new world, he has to make do.Making do involves causing a scene, of course.





	Now, I Am Become...

_ “Shigaraki...this is the end for me, as much as I’m loath to admit it. However, it is not the end for you. Live on, my boy, and finish what I started. After all, you are now and forevermore my undying legacy.” _

* * *

Shigaraki Tomura’s eyes slowly blinked open, his vision hazy as his mind scrambled to focus-

Wait, no. His eyes were fine. That was just the ceiling.

“...when did I get a ceiling?” Shigaraki muttered, shifting in his sheets.

He paused.

“...when did I get sheets?”

“I think a better question would be, why didn’t you have them before?” A deep, booming voice echoed through the room. Shigaraki tilted his head slightly, his face feeling lighter than before.

...no.

No, no, no.

He could feel his fear (and anger,  **_so much anger_ ** ) beginning to bubble in his very soul.

“Where-”

“If you’re looking for your gas mask,” the voice continued, “We’ve placed it on the nightstand next to your bed. We were worried it might obstruct your proper breathing habits while you got used to the Valley air.” Shigaraki spotted the nightstand, and grabbed at the so-called “mask” the instant it came into his line of sight. The sight of the grey, spindly fingers and the outstretched palm soothed him, in a way. He turned away from where the voice had come from, adjusting the hand so that it latched perfectly onto his face. A sigh of relief escaped the young man’s lips.

Footsteps soon followed that sound. “Your connection to your mask is curious indeed, as is its shape, but…” 

The sound came to a halt.

Shigaraki turned around. A tall, lanky man (almost skeletal in nature, with his eyes a light blue surrounded by a muck of dark) stood before him. He wore a plain white shirt, and a pair of tattered green pants. 

Frankly, he looked like hell.

“...to tell the truth,” the man admitted, “I find much about you in general quite curious.”

Shigaraki let out a hoarse laugh. “I could say the same. After all, I thought zombies were pretty creepy in games, but you seem like a doormouse in comparison to half the ones I’ve offed.”

“Zombies?” The man raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”

Shigaraki rolled his eyes. “You know. Zombie games.  _ Home of the Damned, Residence Sinister _ . Someone’s culturally illiterate.”

Surprisingly, the man responded to the insult with a chuckle. “I’m afraid that’s our lot in life here in the Valley of the Wind.” He extended a hand. “Yagi Toshinori. I guess you could call me the mayor? Or maybe king. I’m not sure which they’re calling me today. I swear, it gets more confusing every-”

“That’s great and all,” Shigaraki interrupted, “But back up a bit. How did I wind up here?”

Yagi crossed his arms with a huff. “Some of our more...adventurous citizens found you during an expedition to the Sea of Decay. You were trapped in the body of a God Warrior, unconscious. They managed to bring you back here safe and sound.”

“God Warrior? Sea of Decay?” Shigaraki repeated. His tone betrayed confusion, but his next words were stiff, almost interrogative. “You mean the Nomu? And this “Sea”...is that anywhere near Tokyo? Or are we talking someplace south, like Fukuoka?”

“...” Yagi’s face darkened. He recognized those words from the few surviving texts the villagers had found some years ago, though their meanings were long forgotten thanks to the age of those texts. “Those are not words most know. Tell me, young man, do you remember anything that happened to you before today?”

“Oh boy.” Shigaraki scratched at his neck, grumbling under his breath. “Sure I do. Way too well. Hard not to, honestly.”

“Oh?” 

“Before I say anything else, lemme ask you something.” Shigaraki sat up, his sheets slumping off as he offered a gaze that pierced through Yagi’s own. “Do you know who I am?”

Yagi felt a chill run down his spine. “Should I?”

Even under the mask, Yagi could tell that the young man was grinning. “How rude of me. Let me introduce myself. My name is Shigaraki Tomura. If I’m guessing right, I’m the man who destroyed the world.”

* * *

“What pretension.” Yagi mused, watching Shigaraki as some of the locals assisted him with the...finer points of crop-raising. 

That is to say, how to do it at all.

...what kind of career must he have had to claim he “destroyed the world?” Politician, perhaps, or maybe a known criminal. Yagi tried to pry more out of him, but he refused to give more than the tiniest teases. He had to look into any of his surviving logbooks to see if anything about “Nomu” came up, but it was likely a codeword for something else. Drugs, maybe? Or perhaps something more sinister.

Did Yagi believe Shigaraki when he said he was a survivor of the Seven Days of Fire? It was hard to say. Shigaraki spoke with such earnest fervor when discussing his time under ”Sensei,” as he put it, but he carefully dodged any specific inquiries he or any of the other village leaders had. He hadn’t even heard the phrase “Seven Days of Fire” before Yagi told him, and all that earned the older man was a cackle from the younger. 

After some questioning, Yagi had been able to pinpoint Shigaraki’s Quirk as a strange combination. One, it appeared, was regeneration, allowing him to recover from any physical injury he sustained on the inside and outside. That must have been-along with his strange gas mask-how he survived in the Sea of Decay for so long. He must have gained it right before he was trapped, somehow, given his general unease discussing the Quirk.

The other was still a mystery. It was not unheard of to have multiple Quirks (young Shouto Todoroki was a prime example of that, though the village still debated if his freeze-and-fire powers were one quirk or two). It was unheard of to not just say what you can do. Judgement was not the way of the Valley of the Wind...or so Yagi hoped. He had heard unsettling rumors about young Bakugo causing trouble, but he was sure that with a little talk, he would-

“Yo, zombie.” Yagi craned his neck to look up at Shigaraki. The younger man had a shovel leaned against his shoulder like it was a sheathed sword, and his face betrayed a sense of malaise. He rapped four fingers against the tool-a habit Yagi noted he seemed to carry to everything he’d held in town so far; it seemed more a personality quirk than an actual Quirk. “I took care of the carrots and potatoes. What’s next?”

“Well, Shigaraki,” Yagi began, “That actually should be about it for today. I was hoping we’d have another chance to talk-”

“Pass.” Shigaraki strolled past Yagi, the shovel dropping to the ground with a thud and a clatter. “Turns out farming is a real motivation-killer. Think I’m gonna get a nap in.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah. Though, I do have one question.” Shigaraki scratched at his neck with his left hand, gesturing around the town as he spoke with his right. “You have farming material. You have planes. You even have freaking tanks. Why in the hell don't you have actual entertainment, like, television or games?"

Yagi blinked. "I’m afraid you’re a bit mistaken, young Shigaraki. We don't have tanks."

Shigaraki groaned, placing his hand on his...well, Yagi assumed it would normally be his forehead, but the gas mask seemed to get in the way. “Don’t try to lie to me. They’re right there, near the town border.”

Yagi blanched, peering over Shigaraki’s shoulder.

Distant and tiny as they were, the general shape indicated that the vehicles approaching the Valley were, indeed, tanks.

As best he could tell, the only army with tanks on their side would be...

“...Shigaraki, get inside.”

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be more specific than-”

“Inside, anywhere,  **_now!”_ **

Shigaraki took a short step back, seemingly startled by Yagi’s outburst. With a grumble, he dashed off in the direction of the nearest house.

Yagi ran a hand through his hair. This was bad. None of their heavy hitters were available-all out on some kind of scouting mission or other obligation. He would have to rally the forces they had, and then-

A loud crash of glass and a scream from the house Shigaraki ran into interrupted Yagi’s planning. He saw a flash of blue and black, zipping away on an air glider towards the entrance.

Yagi couldn’t help the next words that escaped his lips: “Oh, shit.”

* * *

Kurotowa was bored.

Incredibly, unbelievably bored.

It was hard not to be when you were out on what was more-or-less a routine job at this point.

Go to a town, find the important people, blow up the rest.

Honestly, it would be nice if he could vary it up some. An assassination, perhaps. Or even a chance at governorship of some territory.

Alas, thus was his life.

Kushana gave him an order. Sad as it was, he had to follow it to the letter. It was a shame she couldn’t make it there herself-something about an “egg,” not that she’d let him know much about it-but that gave him a little leeway. 

After all, that made him the commanding officer...for this mission, at least. 

He raised his hand, and the platoon came to a halt in a series of screeching treads and loud whistles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, swiveling to face his forces. “Our target is this supposed “ancient” that arose from the ashes of the Seven Days of Fire. Best witness reports from our spies at the scene seem to peg him as a blue-haired, lanky-looking fellow. Stay alert, though. We don’t know if any of those Quirked freaks live in the Valley, so we want to keep our distance at first while we suss things out. Any questions?”

“...i-i-is that him, sir?” One of the soldiers asked in a shaky voice, pointing behind Kurotowa.

Kurotowa raised an eyebrow. “Very funny, soldier. It wouldn’t be that easy.”

“No, seriously!” The man insisted, taking a couple steps back. Kurotowa noticed that the immediate flank behind him also began to tense up, some even raising their rifles. “He’s right there!”

Kurotowa sighed. “Alright, let me check for myself. Probably a rock formation or something.” He reached into his coat, pulling out a pair of binoculars. He turned around.

Another pair of eyes met his own. “Hi there.”

Kurotowa jumped back, his free arm reaching for his sword. A shabby, blue-haired man in a hand-shaped gas mask stood before them, just like in the description, a wayward glider at his side.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” he spat. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Well, ain’t that a shame.” the man muttered, holding his hands up in a lackadaisical shrug. “Guess Plan A is out of the picture, then.”

Collecting himself, Kurotowa coughed into his gloved hand. “As a representative of the Empire of Tolmeika, I order you to identify yourself or face-”

“Shigaraki Tomura.” Shigaraki held up a hand. “Probably the “ancient” you’re looking for. A pleasure.”

Kurotowa allowed himself a grin. He took the Shigaraki’s hand, shaking it. He noticed that the other man’s pinky finger was outstretched. “Quite an unusual gesture, I must say. Is this some kind of handshake from before the Seven Days?”

Shigaraki, beneath the mask, returned the grin. “Not quite. It’s just more fun when they aren’t expecting it.”

“...expecting what-”

It was at that moment that Kurotowa noticed his glove was missing, and Shigaraki’s full hand had enveloped his.

Within the blink of an eye, his hand was gone.

Shigaraki held up his now-free hand, waving it cheerily. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

Kurotowa began to scream, scrambling back towards his men as his arm began to disintegrate before his very eyes. With his other hand, he pulled out his sword from its scabbard, slicing at the remainder of his arm in a flailing panic, a few of the surrounding soldiers frozen in fear. One, however, grabbed the hilt of Kurotowa’s sword and pushed it upwards. Kurotowa’s arm fell at his side, fading away into nothingness. The remaining soldiers in the flank quickly raised their weapons, piling bullet after bullet into Shigaraki’s skin. One went straight into his head, whipping it back.

“We got him!” One of the soldiers cheered.

The look on their faces when Shigaraki leaned forward and pulled the bullets back out one by one was just what the doctor ordered. 

As they began to quiver in their boots, Shigaraki chuckled, crossing his arms. “Some army.”

Kurotowa whimpered, leaning against a tank for support as he tried to pull himself up. “W-what kind of monster are you?”.

Shigaraki walked towards the man, cracking his knuckles as he curled his fingers, their tips just barely missing his own flesh. “I’m one of a kind, honestly.” Shigaraki knelt down before a cowering Kurotowa, the other soldiers quickly making way.

“Here’s the deal. I’ve had a hell of a thousand years. I lived. I died.  **_A lot._ ** I'm in a bit of a bad mood.” He raised his hand again, causing Kurotowa to flinch. “But, a thousand years does put things into a bit of perspective. You can’t sweat the small stuff, and boy, are you small stuff. So, I’ll let you off with a bit of a warning.” He tapped his first four fingers on the tank. He heard the panic within the vehicle, the sound of drivers and gunners fleeing as quickly as possible from the machine. “You get the hell out of here…”

He placed his pinky finger down.

The tank vanished in a sizzling pile of ash and smoky wisps of air.

Shigaraki withdrew his hand, holding it above Kurotowa.

“...and I don’t perform a live reenactment of the Seven Days of Fire, right here, right now. Do we have a deal?”

* * *

Yagi was not a young man anymore. 

He could feel his knees begin to buckle as he approached the entrance to the Valley, but it was worth it to keep that young man from doing something totally reckless.

Except…

He had been expecting far more noise. Gunfire, the roar of tank treads. 

Something other than a single pair of footsteps.

Shigaraki waved at Yagi as he approached the older man. “Yo, zombie. Took care of the pest problem.”

“...what?” Yagi asked, his voice shaky from all the exertion he’d just experienced. “What happened?”

“Turns out those tanks took a wrong turn on the way home,” Shigaraki replied cheerfully. “I sent them on their way.” 

Yagi stared at Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki frowned as he began walking past Yagi. “What? You didn’t want to be invaded or something, right?”

“...I don’t know what you did, young Shigaraki, but...” Yagi sighed. “For now, I will take you at your word. Thank you for averting what could have been a major problem.” 

“No big deal. All I did was destroy the issue. Destruction is kinda what I do.”

Yagi coughed. Shigaraki stopped, glancing over his shoulder. He hadn’t seen Yagi frown the entire time he’d been in the Valley, until now. “Is that how you wish for us to see you? A destroyer? A monster?”

“...it’s what I’ve always been, zombie. Sensei said I was good at it, anyway.” Shigaraki shrugged. “Always said I was his legacy. May as well keep it on.”

Yagi approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Shigaraki flinched, but stayed still otherwise. “Young man. Whatever your “Sensei” saw in you, whatever you were before...that’s in the past. Why not just be Shigaraki Tomura for now, and see where that leads you?” With another pat on the shoulder, Yagi continued on his way. 

Shigaraki stared as Yagi walked off.

“...begs the question...just who the hell is “Shigaraki Tomura” in the end, anyway?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets, his pinkies just barely avoiding the fabric. He sighed, walking back to the village. 

He allowed himself a small smile.

“Got a lot of time to find out, I suppose.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Ghibli Academia fan magazine! It's a fantastic piece of work with great art and stories galore-while I can't say if orders for any future copies will be open, I would say to take a look at all the different creators involved here:
> 
> https://bnha-ghibli-zine.tumblr.com/
> 
> I had a blast writing this one-Shigaraki is fascinating to write for, and I adore the Nausicaa setting, so it felt like a perfect match-I also enjoyed having him interact with a different kind of Yagi. I also wanted to write a world in which the main MHA cast except Shigaraki existed (before he showed back up), because that allowed for the inverse-a world where Shigaraki existed but not the main MHA cast. Left a lot of juicy backstory to infer. I just don't get to write enough MHA for my own tastes, so this was a breath of fresh air. I may explore this AU and cast more if people are interested-after all, if Kurotowa's around, who knows who else is? I hope you enjoyed it either way!


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